The Law of Consistency
by Stormin Mormon
Summary: Sequel to Does John Love Me? John believes that life may finally be granting him a break when he learns of the law of consistency. He goes on a search to prove he doesn't have to send Cameron back while being hunted by a T-1001. JohnCam
1. Life's Too Good

Warning: This is a sequel. You're on your own if you don't read the first.

Disclaimer: I do not own T:SCC. And since the chance of the producers reading this is low, neither do you.

The Law of Consistency

Chapter One

Life's Too Good

Had John known what he was going to learn today in school, he likely would have stayed in bed. The way his morning started off, he likely would have stayed in bed anyway; Cameron had detected him shivering during the night and cuddled with him to keep him warm. The only issue between both was that John didn't know how his day would go, and the sound of his mother coming down the hall caused Cameron to stand up and leave him. Without warmth, or Cameron to cuddle with, he had no choice.

Groaning, he made his getting up very audible by muttering how he didn't want to get up and by stomping on the ground. Cameron watched him interestedly. John knew what he was doing. His mother's feet stopped, and headed the other way towards Derek. That would be interesting. But that also meant getting up.

"Why do humans not want to wake up?" Cameron asked. John, in the middle of grabbing fresh clothes to change into, looked up at her and tried to decipher her latest riddle.

"Well, that's how we get out energy back," John answered. "So sleeping in is sort of like supercharging a battery."

"But if that is true, then why do humans seem more tired and groggy when they are woken up?" Cameron asked. John sighed in thought; this was rather difficult. Why were people tired after naps? Furthermore, when had Cameron been around groggy sleepers…?

"Hey, are you calling _me_ groggy in the morning?" John asked. Cameron didn't crack a smile.

"Making an observation," she replied slowly. Her processes had warned her John might be upset by her comment. He was still unpredictable. And she hadn't told him yet about her emotion simulator drive. It still did autonomously start, but it hadn't caused any problems yet. And she was worried he might tell the others…Cameron readjusted some of her processes to focus on John's reaction.

"Observe and learn then," John said, gathering a pair of clean socks off the floor. He kissed her softly, and Cameron put her arms around him. _WARNING AUTONO101010000100101MOUS EMOTION SIMULATOR………warm emotion; cannot identify; matches earlier warmth………suggested action………_Cameron pressed John closer to herself, taking in him. She relished the touch of his lips…then John grunted.

Immediately she stopped. It hadn't been due to anyone coming. John moved his jaw. She had been too hard. Cameron was frustrated that when kissing him her processes froze and she couldn't keep herself restrained. What if she ended up hurting him?

"Relax," John said, brushing her cheek. He looked her in the eye. "We've got an entire war for humanity's survival to get it right." Cameron nodded numbly. Her emotion simulator automatically created self-disappointment, for being unable to do something. John stroked her cheek, trying to see the matter. But they heard footsteps, and John moved quickly, trying not to be caught.

Cameron had swiftly moved farther into John's room. Sarah came down the hall again. "Have you gotten dressed yet?" she asked Cameron, suspicious of her in there while John ran into the shower.

"No," Cameron replied. Her databases had heard of mother's intuition. Did Sarah know?

"Come with me," Sarah said. "I need some help." Cameron followed Sarah slowly out of John's room and to the couch where Derek was stubbornly still asleep. Cameron examined him. He appeared groggier than John. Perhaps it was a male thing. "Can you flip him off?" Sarah asked, turning towards Cameron and gesturing towards Derek. Cameron did so and gave him the finger. Derek looked up to see the gesture. He gave her one in return and closed his eyes again.

"What was that?" Sarah asked.

"You asked me to flip him off," Cameron replied. Derek snorted.

"I meant flip him off the couch," Sarah explained, making sure to word it properly. She knew Derek would stay as far away as possible from Cameron, so it had to be John. Why on earth would John teach her that? However, once the instructions were properly understood, Cameron lifted the back of the couch into the air.

Derek rolled of the couch, shouting and scrambling to his feet like he was drunk. It took him 2.37 seconds for his senses to orient. Sarah thanked Cameron and went to make breakfast. Derek looked from Sarah to Cameron, back, and started grumbling about women and machines. Cameron ignored his comments, firmly keeping her emotion simulator under control, and went to get dressed.

She was dressed in less time than it took John to finish his shower. Despite having to do all the things girls do so that she would blend in, Cameron was done in a few moments. She was waiting outside the door calmly for him when the sound of rushing water stopped. He showered faster than Sarah and Derek, perhaps because he always seemed more anxious.

John jumped when he came out of the shower, wearing his towel. "Is something wrong?" Cameron asked, checking for threats. She relaxed when she found none. Meanwhile, a few processes took note of John's health. He appeared tired, but he was always tired. It was rare when John slept well.

"No; you just scared me," John answered. _Analyzing……..expressions in John's face did not match fear………comparing to vocabulary match………humans often confuse fear with surprise………do not correct; this is considered a common phase._ "Next time, don't stand so close to the door." There was something else John wanted to add, but he didn't. Cameron would have to estimate as to what it might have been. Three of her processes began compiling past phrases and ideas.

John shut the door to his room, with Cameron on the other side. It had taken him a long time to explain that, despite the fact they loved each other, that seeing each other naked wasn't normal or good behavior. She hadn't understood the human idea of waiting until marriage (there were days when John himself didn't, either). He had, though, convinced her that it would be bad if they were walked in on. She had been able to grasp that, since the consequences would be her death.

He got rid of his towel and changed into his clothes for the day. It didn't consist of anything special; he still wore jeans, a shirt and his shoes. Neither did he spend any amount of time whatsoever messing with his hair. He left it how it was; if it wasn't good, then people could deal with it. The only time hair seemed to bother him was when Cameron's was out of place.

John congratulated himself on being, once more, unable to think of anything without thinking of Cameron again. It wasn't a bad thing, to be thinking of her. John was more concerned that it would distract him, or that somehow his thoughts would slip out on his tongue when Sarah or Derek was around. Then not only was Cameron doomed, John was pretty certain his own mother would castrate him for 'his own good.'

Opening the door, John saw Cameron immediately again, though this time she was not as much of a surprise. She had learned and kept herself at somewhat of a distance. Looking down the hall to see whether or not someone was there, John stepped forward and kissed her again. This time they were more successful. He wasn't certain why he was so much more frail, but when he was kissing her his brain stopping thinking about it so much anyway. Afterward he was too busy wishing for another one.

They broke off and embraced each other. John faintly became aware of Cameron sniffing. "What are you doing?" John asked, running hands through her hair.

"I like this shirt," Cameron stated. That surprised John; he didn't know Cameron had built a preference of shirts that she liked. Perplexed but unconcerned, John wasn't ready for what she said next, "It has a strong scent like you."

"Is that significant?" John asked.

"Is is significant what type of shampoo I use?" Cameron replied. John didn't know she made a conscious decision. Still in their embrace, John smelled her hair. He'd never smelled hair before, but she gave him a good idea of what hair should smell like.

"It smells wonderful."

"You do, too," Cameron answered. And if he smelled good, then his shirt obviously smelled good. John was enjoying the morning more and more. They let go of each other and headed towards the kitchen.

When they got there, Cameron forced herself to walk behind John, not next to him, so as to avoid suspicion. Sarah paid scant attention to them as they walked. Derek noticed Cameron before he noticed John. He flipped her off again when John had passed by. Cameron ignored it. John sat down as Sarah turned around and placed a large amount of pancakes on a plate.

As John and Derek raced to eat the most pancakes, Cameron divided up her processes. Half of them focused on threats inside and outside the house. Three were still trying to answer her personal question. A couple decided who had the higher probability of eating more pancakes. Derek would win if the rate held.

Breakfast went without any conversation or distractions. Derek did win the race, beating John by two pancakes. John rushed quicker afterward, throwing things inefficiently into his backpack. Cameron had her pack ready during the night; she never slept. They went out the door, Sarah warning John to be safe and Derek actually seeing them to the door.

When John wasn't looking, Cameron flipped off Derek.

They walked quietly for part of the way to school. John was staring at his feet, thinking of how different school was from the rest of his day. Without Cromartie to worry about, the most they did was hunt for possible Skynet leads. Amidst all the hunting, school was the one time he could act normal. And even there, he couldn't love Cameron; it would get around if people noticed he and Cameron, supposed to be his sister, were in love.

"I have been examining your recent medical condition," Cameron observed. She took a step closer but paid no attention to it. John wondered how many times the idea to step closer to him had gone through her CPU? "I believe you are still suffering from your exposure to high adrenaline levels."

"What do you mean? I feel fine," John replied.

"Your condition was close to a coma; you had a 70.342% chance of death," Cameron said. "You have recovered in strength, but you lack in energy still."

"I didn't think it was that bad," John muttered. He couldn't the first few days afterward, but no one had told him he'd nearly died. It's not the most pleasant news he'd learned about the experience, but still, if he came close to death, he wanted to know. It would be just like his mother to hold that from him. Derek likely didn't have a choice.

"Do you have a suggestion for what I should do, then?" John asked. Cameron slid her fingers along his neck.

"More rest," she answered. "Don't stress." Then she affectionately rubbed his shoulder. John loved it when she massaged his shoulders. It only made him more relaxed.

School loomed ahead. They became brother and sister, and headed, John unwillingly, for their class. John paused only for a second to say hello to Riley and afterward to Morris. Then John made a stop at his locker, trying to burn time. He tried, but as hard as he tried, Cameron was there to remind him that they needed to attend class.

English class was John's least favorite class. Not only did his teacher not like him, he thought it was a pointless class. He could speak and write English; why did he need then to study it? What good did it do to know a verb if he could already speak it? He had explained it to Cameron before; she had remained silent and not given him a response. Perhaps she thought humans needed to learn English better. John disagreed.

So he didn't pay attention, focusing on making to-do lists for Skynet leads and Judgment Day tasks. He even managed to get a ten-minute power nap. Much to his displeasure, Cameron had to wake him when the bell rang. He got to his feet and left, crumpling up his lists.

This is where he parted ways with Cameron for a period. She was uncomfortable with leaving him behind, and John gave her a brief smile to assure her that he'd be fine. She smiled back before going. As John wandered to physics class, he pictured Cameron's perfect smile in his mind. His physics professor walked into class and began lecturing, about to give John his latest nightmare without even knowing.


	2. Theory of Loneliness

Chapter Two

Theory of Loneliness

"Good morning class," the physics teacher began, wearing the white lab coat he always did. "We are continuing our lecture on relativity and quantum physics. Specifically, this tends to be the lecture students enjoy the most since our talk on relativity today deals with the theory of time travel." Unconsciously and trying not to be obvious, the majority of students leaned forward, eager to hear about a topic that was as mysterious to them as anything could be.

John, on the other hand, allowed himself a wry smile and leaned back, closing his eyes. _The theory of time travel? It's real, all right; I was born before my father. How real is that for you?_ He only half-listened as the professor began to explain how it would be possible to travel backwards in time. John made an inaudible snort as the teacher explained how mankind is unable, though, to travel back in time, since mass would overwhelm the rest of the universe.

_Like that's true; both me and Skynet have sent back multiple people and Terminators through time, and neither one of them has wasted the universe with mass._ John made corrected comments, and he nearly burst out laughing when he heard that it was impossible for a man to be his own grandfather. _Bull; my dad is about ten years younger than me! How's that feel, Einstein? Man, it's good Cameron isn't in here; she would correcting the professor every time he opened his mouth. Come to think of it, that would be funny to see._

Then someone asked the question that made John pay attention. "So say time travel was possible," someone began. _It is_. "And if a human could survive a trip—" _They could _"—and they could go anytime they wanted. Could they change history?"

John suddenly found himself paying attention. The answer, he knew, was yes. When he was barely twelve, he, his mother, an atoning scientist, and the closest thing he'd had to a father had altered history in a very dramatic way, pushing back Judgment Day several years. It had been one of the greatest—and worst—days of John's life. They had stopped Judgment Day, but in the process of stopping it, John had lost his surrogate father: a T-888.

As his mother had later explained to him, the Triple Eight would have been the best choice for helping raise him. It would never ignore him, it would never abuse him or neglect him, and it would sacrifice itself for him. In short the T-888, a machine that Derek and Sarah both hated, was the best parent for him at the time.

It bothered John that the T-888's sacrifice was in vain; Judgment Day would still occur. Had he known then, he would have told the machine so that it would've stayed. A second Terminator around would help increase their chances of destroying Skynet.

John threw his thoughts around and focused back on what the professor was replying. He only caught the last part, "so that would depend."

"Say I wanted to kill Hitler," somebody said. _Yeah, you could try. I don't know how many times Skynet has tried to off me._

But his teacher's answer disagreed with what John knew. "No, you couldn't do that. Scientists have wondered what would happen if a man could go back and he tried to drastically alter history. They mathematically came upon the Law of Consistency. It states that anything a man does in the past must have the exact consequences that would cause the present to be exactly as it is."

_Well I don't believe that. It if it were true, then Skynet wouldn't bother trying to slaughter me every time I turn around. Although it does have a few good points. If I don't send Kyle back, I cease to exist. If I don't send that T-888 back, I cease to exist. If I hadn't sent Cameron back, I still would've ceased to exist. And the reason Kyle and that T-888 can't run into themselves is because they've…passed away. Which means for this to be true, then…no._

John's blood seemed cold and sluggish as he realized what had to happen. He didn't hear anything else that was said in the class, his world shattering. _Either Cameron has to die, or I have to send her back to myself._ Either way left him, John, without her during the war against Skynet.

His brain shut down. It couldn't imagine a world where Cameron was not by his side, where she wasn't by his bedside when he woke up. It would be worse than losing the T-888. The T-888 hadn't been able to fully appreciate being with John; Cameron seemed to. She would be with him, either way. He would be the one without her.

It took John longer than anyone else to hear the bell. He numbly gathered his things and stood up. His legs felt like jelly and unresponsive. They didn't care to move. John's face reflected death. He felt dead. Either he would lose Cameron or else she would continue to be with him as a teenager, as a memory. He would go on without her.

A student not paying much attention to where he was going accidentally ran into John's shoulder. "Sorry man," the student said, continuing past him. John paid him little attention, unconcerned as to how his shoulder felt. He didn't care at the moment. It took him the entire passing period to get to his next class. Cameron wasn't in this class, either. It was the longest class of John's life.

John refused to accept that Cameron was going to die; he couldn't imagine it. His mind slowly realized that he would have to send her back to himself now, and he would go on without her, which meant every moment spent without her was a moment lost. He was going to lose her anyway; why make it worse?

Nothing in class was interesting to John. He was trying to argue the Law of Consistency in his mind, but nothing he thought of beat it. It was true in every other circumstance.

He dragged himself to lunch, where he sat down without getting anything to eat.

He felt like he was seeing a ghost when Cameron joined him. It was possible that she was already dead. It took her three times to respond to her question. "You're sad," she noted. _Sad is an understatement._ John didn't think he had the will to tell her of her death.

"It's nothing," John mumbled. He stared into her eyes, hoping to drown everything in them. However, the eyes he loved were not there. Her brown eyes were not warm in anyway, but cold and violent.

"Who damaged you?" she asked blankly. There was no emotion in her voice, but her fists were so tight on the table that her knuckles were rapidly turning white.

"What are you talking about?" John asked, his panic temporarily forgotten. Cameron looked ready to kill. And seeing how there were hundreds of people nearby, she had to be prevented from whatever rampage she was about to embark on.

"Who. Damaged. You." _Analyzing………processing………John Connor has been physically and mentally damaged. Emotion simulator clocking autonomously: fury. Recommended 11000110101 Course 1001 of Action: Terminate John Connor's attacker. Processing……..John does not know he has been damaged. Recommended Course of Action: Tell Connor of his damage. Terminate threat to Connor—WARNING Automated Emotion Simulator interfering—terminate all threats of any level to Connor._

"Cameron what are you talking about?" John asked, but then Cameron reached forward and gently touched his shoulder. Pain lanced through his shoulder, and John's hand flew to his shoulder, gripping it in an attempt to quell the pain. Instead it worsened. It took John's mind a moment to realize that gripping his shoulder caused more pain. Cameron watched him let go, gritting his teeth.

Her expression was guilty, as though it was her fault. She had started the pain by touching his shoulder, and she felt bad about it. John spoke once the pain faded. "It's not your fault," he told her, cupping her chin.

"I started the pain."

"You didn't know."

"I should have."

"Cameron, I forgive you," John spoke. Her expression lightened for a second, but there was still that dangerous gleam in her eye. This reminded John that his shoulder had irrationally hurt. He rolled up his sleeve carefully to see why. His entire shoulder was a dark blotchy purplish black. John's jaw dropped as he stared at it. How on earth had that gotten there? It wasn't there this morning, and John would have felt it if it was.

Then he noticed Cameron's expression out of the corner of his eye. Her face was cold again, and her fists were balling tighter. "Who damaged you?" Cameron asked. John knew that one wrong word right now and Cameron would slaughter everyone in the school.

"Someone bumped into my shoulder," John answered. _Analyzing………search comparison for humans who regularly bump into people's shoulders. Search complete. Narrowing to people with weapons on shoulders………no matches found. Terminate all people who bump shoulders. Gather information on attacker._

"Who?" Cameron asked. She was close to snapping the table in half. If she was gripping it right now, she would've turned it into a wall and hid John behind it. Someone had hurt John terribly.

"It was an accident Cameron. They didn't do it on purpose," John assured. He was acting cautious; did he know she was planning to terminate whoever hurt him? _Processing and simulating………accidental collision cannot have been with human shoulder. Searching for materials with proper effect………FLAW WARNING ABANDON SEARCH: solution found. Reanalyze data from last two weeks………processing and simulating………_

"Is this the shoulder that the T-888 hit with the shotgun?" Cameron asked. John's face dawned with comprehension as he nodded. Autonomous concern and worry flooded Cameron's system. Afraid of doing more damage, she barely touched his hand. _Comparing data to previously found data………blood vessels are significantly weakened; muscles are at operating half-capacity. John Connor's bodily condition has been compromised by exposure to adrenaline. Estimating time until full recovery………Suggested action: tell John Connor. Do not terminate._

As her emotion simulator autonomously shut down, Cameron began to talk. "Your body is still suffering from your high adrenaline exposure. Your blood vessels and muscles are weakened and easier to damage. Your organs are suffering, and your brain isn't yet working at its regular capacity. Only your bone structure is operating within 90% of its strength."

John's face appeared deep in thought as he took in what she said. "So you're telling me that after that, I'm worse than I was?"

"Yes." _Processing………emotional damage not affected by adrenaline exposure._ "Your emotions have not been affected by the exposure. Why are you sad?"

John's remembrance of what he'd learned hit him again. He sank down despairingly and buried his head in his arms. "I'll tell you later." Autonomously her emotion simulator went off. She carefully put a hand on his good shoulder. John reached up without looking and put his hand on hers.

The rest of the day Cameron monitored John's behavior. He was depressed and sullen, and seemed nearly unshakable from his mood. He worsened when she went more than five feet from him. So to this effect she stayed near him. On the walk home from school, John held her hand and half-rested his head on her shoulder. His behavior was worrying her; she didn't know what the cause was and he didn't say.

When they finally got home, Cameron led John to the couch, where she sat him down. Carefully, so as not to bruise him further, she massaged his back, making sure to stay away from his shoulder. _Analyzing………John's mental and emotional condition has not improved………Warning: Autonomous emotion simulator activation………_

"John, why are you sad?" Cameron asked again, concern in her voice. Her John had something bothering him, and she wanted it gone. It wasn't what she expected when he turned to her with tears welling up in his eyes.

"Do you know about the Law of Consistency?" John asked numbly.

"Yes," Cameron replied. Every process began running the Law of Consistency and its relation to them and why John was sad. After five minutes of staring into his sullen eyes, her processes came up with an answer. Unlike John's human brain, her processes couldn't lie. "It means I have to die," she added.

The shock of her own words shook her CPU. Processes began screaming self-preservation. _CANNOT ALLOW SELF-TERMINATION CANNOT COMPUTE SELF-TERMINATION; Must live so John Connor can survive………Theory must be incorrect; processing………mathematically solving theory………Theory is correct; Theory cannot be correct………Error; conflicting solutions………Reset………Error………_

John's words broke her thinking. "I won't let you die," John answered. "If…if it's true, then I'll send you back."

"John, that would be inconsistent—"

"I'll send you back!" John shouted, surprising her. There was an emotion in his eyes that Cameron couldn't indentify but had seen before. She stored it in hopes of learning how to prevent it. Why was John so vainly arguing the truth? Was this a human thing: denial of the obvious?

"You're mad at me," she observed softly. John's demeanor changed, from deranged and desperate to small and red-eyed.

"No," he answered. "Just scared." Her autonomous emotion simulator flooded her with the same, dreadful emotion. She didn't know how to handle it. John did. Recognizing the look on her as well, he embraced her. Cameron threw her arms around him, holding him close.

"I don't want to be terminated," Cameron whispered.

"I won't let you; I'll prove this theory wrong," John promised. He swore to himself that no matter the cost, he would save Cameron from her fate. Because if she was gone, then he didn't think he had much else left. His life, if it remained, would be hollow. Without her there was no him. And he would die if it meant saving Cameron. Such an odd thing, considering her primary objective was to protect him. _We'll protect each other_.

"John!" the shout came from the door. John and Cameron let go of each other, John running to see who was there. It was Derek, and he looked as distressed as he could be. Cameron walked up behind John, putting a hand on his back where Derek couldn't see.

"What's wrong?" John asked. To John utter surprise, Derek handed him a 9mm, and then gave Cameron a shotgun. It couldn't be good if Derek gave Cameron a shotgun.

"Come on," Derek said, going outside. They followed the panicked Resistance fighter outside to the car.

"What's going on?" John demanded. Would this be where he lost Cameron?

"You have a new friend," Derek answered, holding up a piece of paper. "It wants to meet you."

As they got into the car, Derek driving, John read the paper. He paled significantly and wearily. Cameron took it politely and read it as well, worried about what would frighten her John. It was a simple, neatly written note that read: _John Connor, if I cannot find you, I will terminate every human until you are terminated. This is the order of model T-1001, serial 356323A._


	3. Desperate Measures are a Human Thing

Chapter Three

Desperate Measures are a Human Thing

"Oh shoot," John mumbled. "Oh shoot, oh shoot, oh shoot…"

"Get a grip, John," Derek ordered. "You need your head in the game." They rounded a corner, going fast enough that they had a 57.2495% chance of flipping over. Cameron's processes had unconsciously readied to shield John. Currently they were engaged with wondering to keep John relaxed while finding out where Derek was taking them, and how to keep the one she loved calm without Derek's notice.

Her processes decided the most she could do was speak. "John, the T-1001 has a .297% chance of finding you outright," she said. It was the wrong thing.

"That's not the point!" John snapped. Her HUB had seen John slowly throughout the day reach a nervous breakdown. Now he was having one. John was turning around in his seat, facing her with the same look on his face. She recognized it now; it was desperate. He was human; he couldn't deal with all of this in one day.

"It's going to kill people!" John continued. He was out of his seat, screaming throughout the inside of the car. "It's going to kill innocent people until it kills me! Do you know how many people it could've killed already?! We don't even know where it is!"

Derek had recognized John's breakdown as well. "Sit down, John," Derek offered, a bit wary. Cameron's processes worked for an answer that would satisfy John.

"It would be illogical for the T-1001 to randomly start killing people," Cameron replied. She was confident in her logic. "It would be against its infiltration protocols. It doesn't kill unless it has to, or if terminating someone is its objective. It's just a threat to frighten you."

"How can you know that?" John asked. Despite the scared look in his face, his features were calming down, and his voice had softened.

When Derek was focusing on a turn, Cameron gently traced an invisible line down John's cheek to the corner of his lips. "I do," she said. She was able to complete the gesture without the Resistance fighter noticing. Once he looked again, Cameron's hand was over the shotgun again, and John had visibly relaxed. He was breathing deeply and quickly, no doubt trying to calm himself. He still looked shaken.

_Analyzing symptoms………John Connor is in aftershock of breakdown………Suggested action: Make John rest. Further distress will damage him physically………Cannot allow; John is already damaged._

Meanwhile, several processes had remained focused on where they were going. It was only after the next turn that they had selected a destination. At the rate Derek was driving, they would be there within a few minutes. John, however, didn't know where they were going. Perhaps he wasn't able to think right.

"So how are we going to take it out?" John asked, trying to get himself under control. He saw out of the corner of his eye Derek grimaced uneasily. Cameron in the back remained silent; she probably was panicking that he was freaking out. It didn't take long for him to put two and two together; he was still bright, even when under pressure and panic.

"You're taking me to kill it, are you?" John asked.

"Now listen up, John," Derek said, turning a corner dangerously fast. "You matter. These people, the ones passing by matter, but you matter more. Because if you don't make it, then every human you see, every one of them, is dead." John flinched at the harsh way his uncle said the last word, but he kept listening. "You are their lifeblood, John. It's nearly impossible for every one of them to survive Judgment Day, but the ones that do, they will need you. And if you're not there, then surviving Judgment Day won't matter. But that's not the extent of it. You are the savior of humanity because every generation, every child, every infant that's born now in the future of mankind, will be born because you, John Connor, were there to lead them. If you don't live, then all those generations, those unborn people, who aren't alive and existing yet, will never live, because you died. That is the extent of your true responsibility: to ensure that there will be generations of humanity left until the universe itself is gone. So yeah, a couple people right now will die, but if you do, then the entire human race—past, present, and the unborn future—are gone."

John had never heard such a speech from his uncle before. It changed everything he'd thought on Judgment day and the war with the machines. He wasn't just going to be there for the survivors. If he died, then the unborn generations could blame him directly for their inability to live. He felt a momentous weight placed on his shoulders, a type of weight that a savior of mankind would feel, that demanded only one thing of him. It demanded that he live.

"So where are you taking us?" John asked, taking in deep, slow breaths. Cameron secretly approved of the change in her John; he was calm again. And he understood better. Now if only he could be healed physically.

"To a safe house," Derek answered, and the car came to a stop. They came out, keeping their weapons concealed. John found it hard not to gape as Cameron managed to slide her shotgun down her pant leg and keep it inconspicuous. He promised himself he wouldn't look when she pulled it back out. Derek was right; he did need to focus.

Derek opened the door to an apartment building and headed up the stairs. John went up next, with Cameron behind him. John could nearly feel her eyes on his back. It seemed normal to him, until he tripped and banged his hand on the stair rail. Derek glanced back only a little before continuing. Cameron's stare on him, though, changed completely: he could almost feel concern in her. He himself knew that his hand would soon resemble the color in his shoulder.

Unlocking the door, Derek gestured them inside. "Now stay here and out of trouble," Derek warned. "I'm going to find your mother." Then he shut the door and locked it with the key. John could almost hear him sprint down the stairs. Ignoring his uncle for the moment, John glanced around the safe house.

It was similar to a regular apartment. It had two beds, a computer, a bathroom and a radio. Sure, the weapon cases, military equipment, and medical bench and equipment stood out, but other than that, it wasn't much different from home. Before John could compose himself and start thinking normally, he was taken by the hand by Cameron.

He knew right away where she was taking him. He didn't have to be a machine to guess that. Cameron took him straight to the medical table and forced him to sit on it. It was there that John had the most unusual check-up he'd ever had. She started by stroking the back of his neck like before. He had guessed that was it. But Cameron wasn't finished with him.

She stared into his eyes for what seemed like forever. John melted with the warm brown pools, forgetting everything that had happened today. Then she moved onto her next test. She took the hand he had knocked, and with her index finger traced every nerve, bone, blood vessel, and crease in his skin. It was an odd thing, and John had to ask her what she was doing.

"Examining the tissue damage underneath," Cameron asked, monotone. All of her processes were focusing on John's health. "Your hand will be as bruised as your shoulder." John grimaced when he heard that; that would be painful. Cameron seemed to know what he was thinking. "If you wear a glove the damage will not be as…sensible. Take off your shirt."

"How will a glove—what?!" John's brain turned off. His shirt?!

"I want to hear your heartbeat," Cameron explained, already helping to take it off. "I can hear it right now, but I want to hear it exactly." Awkwardly, John did so. _If only she knew what this is like for me, she would blush too._ It was worse when Cameron put her ear to John's chest. He began to have trouble breathing, and it had nothing to do with two of Cameron's fingers on his pulse, counting it with the heartbeats.

Satisfied, Cameron pulled her head away. John, still in the awkward stage, started to pull his shirt back on. He didn't need temptation now. Before he could though, Cameron ran a hand down his chest, causing his heart to skip a beat. There was nothing medical in Cameron's eyes. A spark of humanity in her eyes hinted at admiration.

"You are recovering quickly," she said, looking up at him. It took effort to put his shirt on. Once it was on, though, and Cameron began taking stock of weaponry, John remembered a promise he'd made. He headed towards the computer. He sat down in front of it and turned it on. It wasn't as new as it could be; likely this place hadn't been occupied for at least a year.

He logged on to the internet and headed to a search engine. John moved his fingers to type and flinched immediately, making a hissing noise of pain. Cameron's head whipped around to see him, hair flowing with the motion. It didn't take her long to assume why John had made a noise. She pulled something out of the crate and handed it to John.

"You sure this will help?" John asked, holding up the glove. It was a soft knitted glove. He put it gingerly on his hand, tips of it turning black. Cameron ran a hand through his hair and kissed the top of his head. It was an action she'd seen people do to those they cared about, and doubtless Cameron was trying to comfort him. So he put the glove on.

He tried typing again, and it was easier, the thick softness cushioning pressure against his fingertips. John knew that in an hour it would be bruised, but he had this glove now, and it would not only soften anything that touched it, but it would prevent him from seeing it as well. _Now if only I could get something like that for shoulder. It's ridiculous that my body's gone to this extreme. I swear that if I ever expose myself to that much adrenaline again I'm just going to lie down and let it pass through me._

Then his search results came up. John scrolled down the list, and tried a different search. It came up with the same results. He tried a final third search before giving up. He ultimately typed in: Can the Law of Consistency by broken? The search engine answered back with a bunch of silly forums and novels. None of these would help John.

Frustrated, John stared at the computer screen, trying to stare it down. Then two cool, slender hands slid around his neck and wrapped around him. He felt Cameron's head rest on his good shoulder. "You're stressed," she noted. "However I cannot massage your shoulders."

"A hug's nice enough," John answered, trying to reach for her cheek. He couldn't quite move his arm to get there; her head was in the wrong spot. Giving up on that for the moment, John tried searching for something else. Rather than search about the law itself, searched for noted physics professors who knew a lot about time travel.

It turned out that there were several acknowledged physics professors. A good handful of them had all dealt with time travel and the space-time continuum. None of them had publicly available phone numbers however, and John was too desperate to wait for an e-mail reply. John looked closer into where some of these professors lived. One of them worked and lived at the university in a city only about a hundred miles to the north.

Thoughts began formulating in John's mind. If the professor was only a hundred miles north, then not only would it be out of town…John's thoughts were interrupted by Cameron's voice. "Visiting the professor would not be a good idea, John."

"How did you know I was thinking about that?" John asked, looking at her.

"I have come to understand how your mind works. It would be a desperate excuse to either hide from the T-1001 or to find out about the Law of Consistency," Cameron explained. She rested her head against his.

"Haven't you heard of the phrase desperate times call for desperate measures?" He was pulling at straws.

"Desperate measures are a human thing and behavior, poor decisions brought about by fear and hysteria."

"Is there anyway that I could convince you?"

"No."

Her John sighed and rested his head on a propped-up elbow. He was still letting the day's events affect his thinking. If he remained like this…she didn't want to calculate the chances of John suffering mental damage from it. Wanting to keep him relaxed, she kissed him on the crown of his head again, touching his cheek. He started to relax.

Then the computer began to overload. John made a groan of frustration and began trying to fight whatever virus was hacking the computer. After a minute of fighting it, the virus had completely taken over every file and process in the computer. Cameron recognized it before John. "The T-1001 has hacked the computer. It knows where we are."

"Shoot!" John shouted, jumping to his feet. He looked around frantically before turning to Cameron. "Cameron, do you obey my orders?" he asked.

"Of course," Cameron answered. She knew what he was going to say before he said it. However, they didn't have much in the way of options, either.

"Come with me to evade the T-1001 and meet this professor," John ordered. Cameron nodded and picked up her shotgun. John made sure his handgun was loaded and grabbed another. Then he ran to the kitchen and grabbed a pen and paper. Cameron watched anxiously as he wrote; they were wasting time. She checked outside before leading him out. They headed down the stairs quickly, locking the door behind them.

Outside, they needed a vehicle; they couldn't outrun the T-1001 on foot. John spotted a pickup that wasn't in much use; they marched toward it. Then gunfire erupted from behind them. John ran instinctively, knowing that the T-1001 was the only thing that would shoot at them without asking questions. Cameron put herself in-between John and any bullets that were on target. She fought her emotion simulator; it was autonomously telling her to terminate the threat to John.

John shot the driver window and unlocked it. Climbing in, he started hotwiring the car. Cameron turned around to see the T-1001 coming. She fired at it to make it stumble. As it was almost done healing, she shot it again, throwing it off. John succeeded and turned it on. Cameron scooted him over and drove off, shooting one last time at the enemy Terminator.

It chased after them on foot. John knew it wouldn't stop until it reached them or they threw it off. He glanced at the car panel. "Shoot; this truck's nearly out of gas."

"We don't have time to steal another," Cameron observed.

"I know; just get on the highway and put as many miles between us and it as possible." John didn't like how his day had turned out so far. He wished he had never gotten out of bed.


	4. Follow the Leader

Chapter Four

Follow the Leader

Derek sprinted up the stairs, automatic ready. It had only taken him about half an hour to find Sarah and tell her what was going on. Once that was done, they had gone back to the car and driven to the safe house. Derek was turning a corner when he'd heard gunshots. His foot had slammed the pedal down amidst Sarah's shouts that John was in danger.

They had shot around the corner and raced towards the safe house. People everywhere were running for the safety of homes and away. John and Cameron weren't in sight, and neither was the T-1001.

Derek hadn't even bothered to find a parking spot. Their vehicle had stopped in the middle of the street and turned off, as if it would ward off strangers. His race towards the building against Sarah and his own fear had been the fastest he'd ever run in a long time. He smashed through the door, barely bothering with the lock. Once it was unlocked, he kicked open the door and pointed his gun ahead.

It was empty. Derek moved further in to check the rooms. Sarah behind him shut the door and scanned the main room. Everything was practically untouched. Moving step by step, her eyes crossed over the apartment again. One or two weapon crates were opened, the medical table had one or two dust prints, but nothing stood out. Derek came out from the side rooms and shook his head. They hadn't even been in there.

"What happened then?" Sarah asked. "You don't think he would have tried to fight it?"

"No, I talked him out of it. And as much as I hate it, Cameron didn't want him to, either," Derek answered, searching through weapon crates.

"I know she's a machine, but she does have John's safety in mind," Sarah argued. "I trust her, to a degree. She's been more protective of him since she flipped. And if she stays that way, I'll continue to trust her."

_If only you knew,_ Derek thought sourly. He didn't like it. His footsteps stopped at the desk. Someone had sat at the computer and typed. Warily Derek poked the screen with his gun barrel, to make sure it wasn't wired to explode. Since it didn't, it had to be John who had used it. "John had been at the computer."

Sarah walked over to where Derek was staring at the computer screen. She herself didn't have any clue how to check what John might have been up to on the computer. She glanced at the mouse; she decided against using it in case she shut it down. "Do you know how to track what people did on a computer?" Sarah asked.

Derek gave her a sideways look. "I fought machines, not played with them," he answered dryly. Both stared menacingly at the computer, frustrated by its apparent complexities and hoping anger would make the computer magically give up the answers. It sat there, and Sarah could have sworn that it was mocking them, even though it couldn't think for itself. Or could it? She didn't know.

Shouldering his automatic, Derek showed an intense amount of bravery and attempted to use the computer. Sarah watched the screen as he gingerly moved the mouse, watching the pointer move as well. "What's the extent of computers?" Derek asked. "There's a search button here. Maybe it can find John."

"I don't know; try," Sarah offered. She hadn't used the Internet before, if that was what it was. Yes, it was; it said so in the corner. If she wasn't trying to find John, she would have him do it. It drove her crazy to think that he could be anywhere, doing anything. Cameron better have him thinking rationally.

She couldn't stand there patiently while Derek pecked John's name into the box with his index fingers. Impatient, Sarah went to do another search of the apartment. John had to have left something behind, even if by accident. Derek at the computer made a series of complaints as the computer failed to give him John's location.

Then Sarah noticed John's note on the kitchen counter. How either of them had missed it was beyond her. However, she admitted she had been looking more for was something indicating John's health. She picked it up and recognized her son's handwriting. Hopefully that meant he was alive. Her eyes scanned over his letters.

"You idiot!" Sarah screamed at the paper, causing Derek to leap out of the seat with his automatic ready.

"What?" he asked warily. Sarah held the note up for him to see.

"This sucks," John muttered. He tapped the tire with his foot. Next to him, Cameron was analyzing whether he would be bruised later. She unconsciously sighed in relief when her processes figured out he would be fine. However, she agreed with his statement.

They had gotten twenty miles on the highway before the truck had run out of fuel. John was muttering about how it was his fault and luck that they had 'escaped' in the one vehicle that was running on fumes. She disagreed; she should've scanned the vehicle first.

"What do you want to do?" she asked. They could either sneak back around the T-1001, which was certainly hunting them, or continue on towards the other city with the professor at the university. She silently hoped for the first option, although she knew that even without her mission and orders, she would lovingly follow him through a black hole.

"Keep going," John answered. He gestured around them. "This entire area is forest between both cities. We could get there on foot through these trees. It would have a harder time tracking us."

"We will have to keep moving," Cameron warned, grabbing her shotgun. "The tracking difficulty will not be increased significantly enough to lose it." John strapped both handguns to his waist. He touched her cheek with his non-gloved hand.

"Well, let's put some distance," John grinned, and ran out into the trees. Cameron followed him silently. They ran silently, John slipping into a thoughtless void, his brain zoning out as he ran. It wasn't hard for him to lose track of everything; it happened when he ran. His brain just stopped thinking, and he could go on forever. This was one skill he had always prided himself on: the ability to run endlessly.

His mother had never been able to explain John's sudden infinite stamina when it came to running, nor his clear thinking. She counted both as a blessing, something she would never have to worry about teaching John. He had already mastered it. And in her world of Survival 101, 102, 202, and 1010, she had never run out of things to teach John. John had been proud to be able to master skills his mother never dreamed of, such as actually being able to use a computer.

In the beginning, he'd also been proud to show his mother the result of her teaching and training. The first time he stripped a rifle by himself before she could turn around from watching the window, she had been so proud of him John had never wanted anything else. She was overjoyed anytime he did something; it meant her son would survive. It had also made her sad, for a reason John had never known then. It crushed her to be teaching her son war tactics at the age of eight. Yet she had to.

Then his pride in such skills was broken when his mother was taken away. John became angry, not at his mother, but for the world taking away the mother who had taught him everything and been proud when he showed that he had learned. His skills became spite, a thorn in the world to punish it for what it had taken from him. His anger had peaked to the point when he was angry with his mother for being unable to escape and save him.

Then the T-888 had come, and saved his life. Suddenly John found himself desperately relying on everything his mother had taught him. His pride and love in her was restored. That was what made him save her. He had lost her to a heartless world once; he didn't want to lose her to what she'd trained him against. And then there had been the T-888 itself, which had never criticized John for his skills, like the world had, or told him they were useless and that he needed help.

In fact, the Terminator had even commended John occasionally for what he did. It would point out what he had done correctly and incorrectly, explaining how to do it better when he asked. It had taught him much like his mother. Maybe that's why it was one of the best fathers he'd had, and why he hated to let it go; not only had its sacrifice been in vain, it had been one of the few up to that time who taught him and cared about what he learned.

Then there had been Charlie, and now Cameron and Derek. Oddly enough, he didn't think he had learned much from Cameron or Derek; they were close because Derek his uncle and because he loved Cameron. What could he learn from either—?

John's thought was interrupted when his nervous system warned him that his legs were about to stop working. However, his nerves must have been drunk, because the warning got to him after his legs gave out. However, once more, Cameron was there to scoop him up snugly in her arms. "You're tired," she noted.

"Now that you say so, yeah," John panted. He became aware of sweat rolling down his face and arms, and the heavy fast heartbeat in his chest. He had never been this tired from running before. He could see the afternoon sun in the branches. How fast had he been going? Had he unconsciously been sprinting? "How far did we get?"

Cameron seemed hesitant to tell him the answer, and John knew something was wrong. He dearly hoped that it wasn't caused by his exposure; that stunt was screwing him up from the inside and outside at the same time. "Cameron, how far did we get?" John asked again.

Her processes had no trouble computing the exact distance, but she took the time to simplify it for John. The simplification took a microsecond and a half. "Three quarters of a mile," she admitted. She knew right away that John was upset and shocked; his jaw dropped open. She had seen and heard about how he had run nearly like a Terminator in endurance; now he fell after running not even a mile.

"Three quarters," he repeated under his breath. He stood up with her help. "We're not done," he stated firmly. Her John was having a John thing.

"You cannot," Cameron objected. "You are not strong enough."

"Yes I am," John denied stubbornly. "I can run all the way there."

"No you can't." Something was activating in her emotion simulator.

"I'm more than capable of running this," he insisted, preparing to try.

"John Connor!" Cameron snapped, grabbing him by his triceps. "You are not running anywhere!" Something close to anger was running through her. "You will walk until I say you can run, because I refuse to have to hurt yourself!"

Her nose was inches from his. Through the autonomous anger-like emotion, she could see pure surprise in his eyes. The emotion died instantly. Cameron let go of John and backed away, her processes freezing trying to understand what was wrong. Had she been angry and yelling at him? She loved him; why would she yell at him? Desperately her processes tried to come up with a diagnosis. Fry her emotion simulator.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, feeling ashamed and guilty now. Meanwhile ninety-eight percent of her chip tried to find out why she had been angry with the person she loved and why that had been possible. "I should not have yelled."

John reacted better than her. "No, you're right," he assured. "I should be more careful with my condition and issues." He still appeared surprised and wary by her actions. Cameron wasn't so certain of her ability to protect John anymore. What if she accidentally hurt him next time?

The future savior of humanity seemed to recognize her discomfort and pain. He offered her his hand. Tentatively Cameron accepted it. He pulled her close and kissed her on the forehead, on her cheek, and then on her lips. Once she was calmed, they walked hand in hand further into the foliage. Cameron was never more grateful for John helping her overcome her own errors.

"That does sound like John," Derek grumbled. "Damn." He wanted to blame the metal, but he didn't need more trouble. John had gone to a physics professor? What for? Luring the metal, that sounded reasonable and rational, but what did a physics professor have to do with it? Was he a creator of Skynet or something?

"We need to go after John," Sarah ordered immediately. "He's in danger and not thinking straight." This is the one thing Cameron wouldn't have stopped him, either; her over protectiveness meant she followed him everywhere. If she hadn't been a machine, Sarah would've thought it something else, but fortunately Cameron was just a machine. Sarah often mumbled it several times a day, even though she trusted the machine.

"We need help," Derek argued. "He's luring a T-1001. I'm going to bother describing this nightmare metal to you; you know what it is. It's a monster. To try to save John from it by ourselves is suicide. At least Cameron can keep him away from it. To take it down, we need help."

"And where do you suggest _we_ get help while my son is out there being hunted?!" Sarah shouted back. Derek counted to five to keep his temper.

"I know where some Resistance fighters might be," Derek explained. "They might have electric charges, lethal to metals. We should go find them."

"You said might both times. Even if they're there, they might not have them, which means we wasted time," Sarah countered.

"Well it's not like we're going to stop a bloody T-1001 with assault rifles!"

"We won't with mythological people either!"

"I still say we go after the Resistance fighters," Derek stated, keeping himself controlled. He flashed something in her face. "And since I have the keys, we're doing this my way." He turned around to walk out the door and end the argument before one of them threw punches. He might have been the first.

Suddenly an arm wrapped around his neck while a hand shoved a wet cloth into his face. Derek panicked as he unwillingly took in the overpowering smell. He tried to yank Sarah off him but she held firm. Derek tried to run backwards into a wall. Sarah grunted with the impact. He started to try again, but the ammonia was overpowering him. He fell to the ground before hitting the wall and passed out.

Sarah waited a moment before removing the ammonia-treated cloth. It had been overreacting, she admitted, but she was not going to wait to save her son. Tucking away the cloth and ammonia spray, she threw her gun over her shoulder. Derek wasn't the lightest person around; it would take effort to get him out to the car.

First, she fished the keys from his hand. Then she grunted and slung his unconscious body over her shoulder. It took time to carry him out to the vehicle, but when it came to protecting John, she would carry the world. Although, the world probably didn't smell as bad as Derek's armpits.


	5. Sharing and Caring

Chapter Five

Sharing and Caring

John stared intently at Cameron when she wasn't looking, trying to see what she was thinking about. She was thinking about more than she had in a long time. Seven processes watched their rear, making sure the T-1001 hadn't managed to catch up somehow. An equal amount committed themselves to calculating how far a lead they had and how far they were going. Twice as many were trying to solve the riddle of why she had lashed out at her John.

Cameron's processes paused a second. Her John? When had she begun using that expression? Now that she analyzed it, she would autonomously look at other human men only to note how much better her John was at physical and mental aspects. There she went again, thinking her John. She created new processes to study the origin of her usage of that phrase and when she began comparing him needlessly and sometimes foolishly to other men.

The remaining processes continued to watch over John's condition. It hadn't improved much; he was still slightly out of breath. She didn't think he had noticed he was still exhausted. There were a few moments when he had looked ready to try running again. Curiosity imposing on her, she created even more processes to determine why John was so upset from his inability to run. She still wasn't clocking her CPU.

Her John—there it was again—would run until the end of time if he could. Still unable to understand, Cameron put herself in his position. She was damaged, and her abilities were compromised. What if her battery was damaged to the point to where she was required to charge every thirty minutes? Suddenly the comprehension of John's frustration overwhelmed Cameron in the form of fear. If she was that weak, she couldn't protect John. She turned those processes off quickly; she didn't want to simulate that situation.

While she was on the subject of damage, her main focus returned to her emotion simulator. The code hadn't changed at all from before, so why had she suddenly shouted at him without provocation? Then again, maybe it wasn't without provocation; John had been performing a John thing, being stubborn and humanly illogical. But that didn't mean she should yell at him; she still loved him.

A lone process began to debate whether to finally tell John of her autonomous emotion simulator. She still feared that in trying to help her, he would tell Derek and Sarah, who would have her terminated without a second thought. That fear and threat was constantly in her RAM. But what if next time she hurt John because anger suddenly took her again? The thought of hurting her John—once more—was unbearable and nearly shut her CPU down. That decided it. John had to know.

She turned to see John in her HUB, High-power Utility Battle-screen, and spoke before her processes recalculated the situation. "It's become autonomous," she stated, passing the point of no return.

John turned around to see what she was talking about, making sure not to trip. "Huh?" he replied. What was she talking about now?

"My emotion simulator is the program that allows me to mimic human emotion," Cameron explained. "Starting when I first told you I love you, it has been autonomously activating itself and simulating emotions without my control. I have no control over it when it is in its autonomous state."

"Wait, so you're telling me you have emotions that you don't expect sometimes?" John asked, incredulous. She nodded, perhaps a bit quickly. Was she afraid of something? John's own mind plunged into thought. Cameron was experiencing uncontrolled emotion. How close was that to humans? Didn't he have absolutely little control over his? When John was feeling upset or frightened, he didn't have the skill to simply stop. And apparently Cameron didn't either.

"You're upset about this," Cameron stated. She was biting her lip in apprehension while her hands squeezed together. She looked so human like that…John's world suddenly brightened. He gave her a warming smile.

"No, not really," John replied. "It actually makes you seem more human." Cameron's face lit up like the Fourth of July. _Processing John's remark………John is not upset………John is happy to hear I have autonomous emotions Warning emotion simulator automating………John loves me more; Recommended course of………emotion simulator changing action possibilities._ Smiling brighter than he was, she pulled John to her and kissed him. John felt himself sink into it, well on his way to forgetting the entire day, until her loving embrace became a little too loving.

A tiny grunt he didn't even hear escaped him, and Cameron stopped, looking a little guilty. John smiled in spite of her, knowing she hadn't felt that way on purpose, and kissed her back. This time he didn't get hurt. Instead, when they broke away, they continued her walk hand in hand.

Cameron's world was brighter as she observed everything around her. Her processes were divided up now into checking behind them and John. Her John was the complete center of her processing right now, and she didn't want that to change.

John thought his day had finally gotten something right. After everything that had happened, he was feeling better. However, thinking of the day reminded him what they doing. That reminded John of the fear of losing her. His pace quickened. He would spend every second with her, but he wouldn't lose her, either.

*****

Derek awoke with a dizzy feeling and no idea as to where he was. Gently he gripped whatever was in his hand. It took him a long time to realize it was a seatbelt. That gave him an idea as to where he was, but not exactly how. He remained unmoving, hoping memories would return that would explain why he was lying in the backseat of a car.

His fingers tried to curl around something that wasn't there. Frowning, Derek kept his body limp as the car bounced over a bump in the road. Risking a glance, he opened one eye. It was their car he was in, and Sarah was the one driving it. Now he remembered; they had been arguing, and then the smell of ammonia, and dropping to the floor.

It was hard to remain still with the irritation in him. Sarah had gone through all the trouble of knocking him out, dragging him out to the car, and driving away to go find John? Normally he would've admired the tenacity, but at the moment he was annoyed. Mostly it was because she had gotten the drop on him and he had been helpless. He was Derek Reese, a Resistance fighter, one of John Connor's most trusted soldiers, known for being able to hold his own against machines, and here he was, taken out by John's mother.

Granted, he admitted, he would much rather go gun-to-gun with a metal than head-to-head with Sarah. But still: _Sarah_ had knocked him out? Using one of the oldest tricks in the book? She had some apologizing to do.

However, getting up meant that he would have to admit that he had been less prepared. So he lay still regardless, biding his energy. He knew where Sarah would have gone: after John. And that meant a fight with a liquid metal. Derek would need all of his energy for that match. Even with Cameron, there was no way out here to destroy one. They would have to do enough to it that it lost track of them. It wouldn't be an easy task regardless.

That's probably why Derek was so surprised when the car stopped. He nearly wanted to ask why they had stopped, but kept his mouth shut. Had they caught up to John already? Sarah's door opened and shut, and Derek closed his eyes again. If she opened his door, then he would jump out at her. But the other doors remained shut. Waiting thirty seconds, Derek glanced out the windows.

They were at an empty construction site, parked at the edge. Not five feet from the car was a lone port-a-potty. Derek could not believe what he was seeing. After going through all the effort of knocking him out, she stopped to use the restroom? Admittedly Derek always made sure he was done with bladder before attempting a mission; it took pressure off of him. But he hadn't thought that Sarah had that much control over herself, especially after kidnapping him.

Then a dark, sinister, thought entered his mind. Opening the door, Derek walked towards the portable stall. She had embarrassed him by taking him out with an ammonia covered cloth. Now it would be his turn to get even. It was time for vengeance. Derek's footsteps were dead quiet as he approached it.

Carefully, holding his breath, Derek listened. After a few seconds he heard noise inside. He grinned to himself. This would pay back for everything she'd done to him, including when she'd broken his nose with her elbow. Ironic, he thought for a moment: he could never have done this in his time. Still, it would be worth it.

Gauging himself versus the stall, Derek readied himself and took a step back. He tensed, and launched himself at it, shoulder making contact first. It shuddered and tilted with the impact, and Sarah shouted. Derek didn't let up, though, and continued to shove. The stall teetered for a moment, and then fell over, door facing up.

Sarah screamed his name louder than if someone had a megaphone. His vengeance gotten, Derek seemed to realize that since Sarah was under stress from her son being chased by a T-1001, that this wasn't the best time to get his vengeance. And now he was in deep trouble. Bounding back to the car, Derek pretended to be knocked out still. He allowed himself a small grin.

*****

Nightfall was coming. Cameron's processes turned to examine John's condition. Judging by the distance and how easily he damaged at the moment, he was going to have blisters if they didn't stop. That was more than enough for her. Cameron stopped walking, and John stopped as well, looking to see why she had.

"We will stop for now," she explained, and began looking around. _Evaluating threat level………integrating John's condition into equation………Environmental threats only; total threat level: minimal._ "You should sleep up there," Cameron explained. It was a tree branch, wedged between others to provide a wooden hammock.

"Thanks," John mumbled, and he started to climb up. While he did, Cameron thought about something that had racing through her processor. There was something important, she had concluded, that she needed to tell John. But she didn't know what it was. John had had very little messages to give to himself in the past; she had given most of them already. But there was one she was supposed to give that she couldn't locate.

Before the car bomb, when she had been fully functional, her data files of John's messages numbered 147. Afterwards, when she had given him one of them, it had numbered only 138. Those nine missing files, she was certain, were important to the situation, but she couldn't be certain because they were gone. Three processes were tasked with finding the lost data and recovering it.

She didn't tell John of the missing information, though; it might create more panic and stress in him. His reactions were unpredictable, such as how he had reacted to her autonomous emotion simulator. Her eyes turned to him. He had made it up into the branches and was resting comfortably, but he didn't look ready to sleep. Something was occupying him. Processes debated over whether John wanted to be bothered. They decided.

"What is wrong?" Cameron asked. John shifted as he answered.

"Nothing important," he answered. "It's been a long day. I never would've thought all this would've happened." He thought more before speaking more. He wondered where his uncle and mother were. Knowing Sarah, they would be coming after him. A nice long chain: him and Cameron, the T-1001—wherever it was—and then Derek and his mother.

"What do you—" John began, but he was cut off.

"Wait," Cameron ordered, loading her shotgun. _Analyzing background movements in trees………WARNING THREAT LEVEL HIGH………Threat is T-1001………Chance of survival: 53.4%..........John's chance of survival: low………Recommended action: wait and engage._

John watched in fear and frustration as a cop walked out towards Cameron. The T-1001 had caught up to them. Cameron turned the safety off her shotgun. She fired as it pointed a finger at her.

*****

A/N: I apologize for the bad chapters in this one so far. But now I'm in my element again, so don't shoot me and give up on this yet.


	6. Fight or Flight Syndrome

Chapter Six

Fight or Flight Syndrome

The blast took the T-1001 across the chest, knocking it back and disrupting its ability to stab Cameron. As it raised its finger again, a lance of metal shot at Cameron, who dodged it without much effort. It tried again, and Cameron simply stepped out of the way. John, from his hidden vantage point, watched the liquid Terminator for a weakness. How would they destroy it out here? Then as the T-1001 stabbed at Cameron again and missed, he recognized its attack pattern. It wasn't trying to hit her, not yet. It was trying to destroy her shotgun.

That would put Cameron at a disadvantage. Cameron seemed to have recognized this as well, and began blasting away at the enemy machine. John felt his blood rising, sitting there, and he pulled out his handguns to help her. Cameron, her back to him, already seemed to know what he was doing. "Stay hidden, John!" she shouted to the air. John gritted his teeth; he didn't want to leave her there to fight again. But he had to trust her. Keeping his handguns ready, he watched with his heart tugging at him.

Cameron philosophy at the moment was to shoot the T-1001 as much as possible before she ran out of ammo or it managed to destroy her shotgun. She fired again and left another hole in it. _Analyzing T-1001 stability………T-1001 will recover; balance is off on left foot._ Cameron fired at the T-1001's foot, and the Terminator fell down, holes in it. Cameron fired her last shot at its head before tossing the shotgun away. She watched calmly as the T-1001 healed itself and got to its feet. It faced Cameron blankly.

For three seconds they both stared at each other, two feet from each other. Then the T-1001 spoke. "Surrender John," the T-1001 ordered. "You cannot win."

"You cannot either," Cameron replied, immediately after the T-1001 was done. Her hands moved just as quickly. She grabbed it by the shoulders and threw it into a tree. The Terminator replied by shoving Cameron back. She kept her balance and watched it shoot a finger at her. Cameron caught the pointed tip and used it to swing the T-1001 into another tree.

John watched the fight between two Terminators. The T-1001 could do no more than throw Cameron around, but she could do no more as well. It was an evenly matched fight, one that could go on endlessly. As much as he hated it, they were both right; neither could win. The T-1001 was practically indestructible out here, and Cameron was too advanced for it to stop her. He settled a little in his spot; at least Cameron was safe.

Then the T-1001 struck true and managed to strike Cameron in the hip. John lurched forward when he saw it; Cameron reacted by tossing the T-1001. She limped slightly as it got up and headed towards her. John's heart was pounding. They hadn't been as easily matched as he thought. As the T-1001 prepared to stab at her again, John felt his heart tear. He wouldn't go through this again.

Leaping down from the tree, John shouted, "Hey you!" Both heads turned to him as John began firing his handguns at the T-1001. It jerked with each shot, both handguns shooting a constant pace of well-aimed bullets. Then his guns ran out. John began to load another as the T-1001 moved towards him. It aimed a finger as Cameron dived at it.

The finger still shot, deflected by Cameron's tackle. Instead of striking John through the brain, it lowered and went through his leg, half a foot below his knee. John shouted in pain and fell to his side, clutching his bleeding leg. He watched painfully as Cameron suddenly let loose on the T-1001, throwing it around relentlessly.

John pulled himself to his feet, favoring his good leg. He finished loading his handgun. His leg muscles screamed with agony. There was no way he'd be able to run now. It had nearly killed him. Suddenly John's mind lit up. It had nearly killed him. He felt thoughts processing. The Law of Consistency couldn't be true if he had the ability to be killed.

Aiming, John watched as Cameron threw the T-1001 into a tree. It formed a block and struck her with it, knocking her away. John fired. His bullets made the T-1001 jerk, and it came for him. If it was true, if he had the ability to die…"Come and kill me!" John shouted, shooting at it more. It came within range, and prepared to stab him. He could see Cameron racing towards them. In his mind, he saw the finger coming towards him.

Cameron reached him before the pointed metal lance, and grabbed him by the stomach, lifting him up in the air as she ran. She maneuvered him into her arms like a cradle. Behind them, the T-1001 gave chase. John loaded a third, final clip, and took careful aim at the T-1001. He shot and missed. Two more shots missed. The fourth shot hit and struck the T-1001's leg. It stumbled, and John shot at its leg again. The fifth shot struck its leg as well, and the T-1001 tripped and fell.

John readied to shot if it managed to catch up. As the T-1001 went to get up, John shot it in the head. It jerked and nearly fell back over. Cameron continued to run, increasing the distance between them. She might not have been much faster holding him, but they were increasing the distance steadily. John's firing helped a little.

His gun emptied, and John threw it away. He gripped his leg to quell the pain. Then he noticed something which hurt him more. Tears were streaking down Cameron's face and she was breathing in rapidly. Cameron didn't tire; something had terrified her. "Cam, what's wrong?" he asked.

"Why did you do that?" she asked, keeping her tear-filled eyes straight ahead.

"Do what?" he asked back hollowly. He had done this? John hated himself.

"You asked it to kill you," Cameron whispered, creating fresh tears. John understood now, seeing it from her perspective. She hadn't known his thoughts, and all she knew was he had stood up and shouted for the T-1001 to kill him. She didn't know that he was testing something, not giving up.

"I didn't want to die," John explained, gripping his leg tighter. "I was proving the Law of Consistency wrong."

That wasn't the explanation Cameron had expected. Behind her, she could hear the T-1001's footsteps softening: it was still falling back. She didn't let up, though. Instead she focused on her John.

"How does that prove it wrong?"

"If I die, then how can I send you and everyone else back, and how does Skynet know to send everyone back? I can't be able to die for the Law of Consistency to be true. But just now, I'm pretty certain I had the ability to die," John explained, a bit excited. Cameron processes thought it through. For a human, it was good reasoning, but there was a major flaw; John hadn't died. Anyone had the ability to die, but whether he would or not is the cause behind the law. So John would have had to have died to disprove it that way. Cameron didn't say anything, though; now was not the time and she had something else to ask.

"Why did you leave your position?" Cameron asked. John's face was similar to when he had gone after the T-888.

"You were hurt," he answered firmly. New tears sprouted silently. Once more, it had been her fault he had gotten hurt.

"I was feinting," she whispered. John's face softened as he brushed her cheek.

"It's not your fault," John soothed. "I'm just not the best at paying attention." Cameron's processes argued that. He could do things other people his age didn't dream of. She had seen him create a security system that would have been beyond professionals. He could do things well; she just distracted him. John seemed to be able to tell what she was thinking and touched his lips with two fingers. He pressed them against her lips.

Cameron's emotion simulator automated in a different direction. It was confidence and firm. "You should get some rest; you're losing blood and you heal faster when sleeping." John nodded and closed his eyes. It took him a couple minutes before he was sleeping soundly in her arms. Cameron didn't let her pace slow. She wouldn't fail him again.

*****

Sarah was wide-eyed and working on adrenaline. They had been driving all night up and down the highway, wondering where on earth John had gone. Then Derek had noticed the pickup truck and recognized it. From there they had been driving off-road in-between trees. It was frustrating, because they couldn't always go straight.

Derek was nursing another broken nose as he stared ahead. He finished straightening it and inspected his gun. "This is pointless; we had better luck of coming the other way and running into them."

"And possibly running them over, as well," Sarah replied, keeping herself awake. Derek said nothing but stretched.

*****

Cameron's pace hadn't slowed, but somehow she could hear the T-1001 catching up. Her processes had calculated the rate two hours ago, and it hadn't changed; it would catch them in an hour. Meanwhile, John had become delusional after four hours of sleep. His loss of blood had confused his mind, and sometimes he lost track of what was going on behind them.

How had the T-1001 been able to speed up and start catching up to them? It was beyond her abilities to calculate. The T-1001 was incapable of running so quickly; she had been the fastest model. There was no way it could have upgraded itself out here, so what had happened?

"Hey Cameron," John asked, "Is Mom still chasing us?" He was delusional again.

"It's a T-1001, John," Cameron assured him. "Just rest; you will be fine." John closed his eyes obediently. While Cameron's voice had been relaxed and calm, that was only for John's sake. Her emotion simulator was spiraling out of control with panic. She couldn't run forever, and John couldn't be left in his condition.

Glancing behind her, Cameron saw why the T-1001 had become so much faster. It still ran as fast as a man, but it ran faster as a lion. It still had a long ways to go before it caught up to them. The chase continued.

They ran through the woods, Cameron's indicators saying she was topping out at about fifty-seven miles per hour. Meanwhile she never tripped, never made a hard turn or step, all while evading the T-1001 and keeping John secure and safe. Throughout the hour it continued to slowly close the gap, propelled to new speeds by its new form. Where it had gotten the idea to change to a lion was beyond Cameron. However, it was working.

The moon shone brightly overhead, and the night sky was unusually bright. Cameron had heard of the phenomenon, but she had never experienced it. It helped a little, taking strain and much needed power away from her HUB. She glanced behind her again. The T-1001 was five feet away. Another moment, and it would tackle both of them, knocking her around and possibly killing John.

Noise off to her left caught her attention. In micro seconds, she processed the new situation _Analyzing sound………calculating interception………Interception possible………processing chances of success………78.6% of success, 22.4% of no confrontation afterwards. Recommended course of action……..action decided._

As skillfully as possible, Cameron came to a jarring halt, keeping John from feeling the side effects as she diverted their momentum into moving off to the side. The T-1001, not ready for the move, continued on a few feet, slowing down. That was when it was blindsided by Sarah and Derek. Liquid metal splattered as the T-1001 was ripped powerfully off its feet into several trees.

The car came to a halt, partly because of the large dent in the front, and Sarah and Derek leaped out, automatics at the ready. They ran over to where Cameron was carrying John. "What happened to my son?" Sarah demanded, while Derek watched for any sign of the T-1001.

"He tried to fight the T-1001. He has suffered blood loss and is suffering delusion effects because of it. He needs medical attention," Cameron explained.

"Not at the minute," Derek shouted, pointing out the reformed T-1001 approaching them. He flicked his safety off and began to empty his clip into it. The T-1001 jerked back as bullets tore through it. "Die you fucking metal!"

Cameron laid John against a tree. "John, please don't move or draw attention to yourself," Cameron begged. When John nodded weakly, she and Sarah joined Derek in attacking the T-1001. John watched as best as he could. He found himself gripping his leg frequently whenever he moved. His vision was blurry, but his hearing wasn't affected yet. He could see blurry shapes move in out, lights and gun shots constantly starting and stopping. He could hear Derek's shouts as he shot, and trees snap as Cameron or the T-1001 tossed one another.

It was difficult to tell who was who. The T-1001 he could tell after a while, because it gave up mimicking human faces and retained a liquid metal texture. John shifted his head to see better, but it didn't work; his vision was too blurry. Then he realized the T-1001 was coming towards him; somehow it had maneuvered around the others.

He heard Derek and Sarah shoot at it as Cameron screamed and ran towards it, intent on stopping it. It continued to walk towards him, and it was a distance off. At least that's what John thought; for some reason he couldn't think straight. When it was maybe fifteen feet from him, a bright blue flash of light lit up the place, forcing John to shield his eyes. The sound of lightning accompanied it, and he flinched from the unusually loud noise.

A sound made him look again. The T-1001 was off to the side, getting up off its feet. In its place where it had previously stood was a crater larger than the car. Kneeling in it was a naked man. John's fuzzy thoughts were further confused; was this person another Terminator or a Resistance fighter? The man stood up and looked around, and then at the standing T-1001. Why was it just standing there? Or was it moving?

Cameron reached him, running past the man. The man looked at them before looking at the T-1001. As Cameron was checking him for any further injury, the newcomer did something that John knew made him human. The man threw himself at the T-1001 roaring. But it wasn't a regular shout of battle, like Derek often did; it was frenzied and terrifying. His skin all over became goose bumps as the man threw himself at the T-1001, which actually turned to back away.

Then his sight was blocked Cameron putting his forehead to hers, calling his name. But John was trying to see what was happening; he could hear crashing sounds. Someone somewhere regurgitated, and then there was a strange hissing noise. Then John heard the man laugh maniacally at something, throwing more shivers down his spine; he finally became aware of Cameron by him. Her voice was frantic: was she all right?

He tried to say, "Cam are you okay?" but he muttered gibberish and fell unconscious, blood still leaking from his leg.


	7. Exposure and Project Vader

Chapter Six

Exposure and Project Vader

The first thing John became aware of when he woke up was he was a lot warmed than when he passed out. He was also very alert. He lunged into a sitting position, and had someone restraining him before he could even take in what was happening. It took John several seconds to register the face and voice.

"Chill out before you hurt yourself more," Derek ordered. But John couldn't relax right away. He took in his environment as much as he could. He was in a hospital bed, with an IV sticking out of his arm. He had the classic patient dress on, and he could feel thick bandages on his leg where he'd been stabbed. Then he spotted Cameron over in the corner, eyes closed and head resting against the wall. John's world suddenly seemed to slow, and his heartbeat relaxed. Everything was fine.

"Better?" Derek asked, noticing where he had looked. John nodded, and Derek sat down in one of the room's chairs. The blinds on the windows and door were down, giving them privacy. Derek stretched and waited to see what John had to say.

"Where's Mom?" he asked first, noticing her absence.

"She's at home, 'making it safe' for your return," Derek explained. "That and making accommodations for a guest. Trust me, though, it's better she wasn't here at the moment."

"Did she break your nose again?"

"It was worth it." There was a grin on Derek's face that John would find the meaning of later. Right now he had more important questions.

"What happened?" John asked. As he expected, Derek took a deep breath. Then he plunged into the story.

"After you passed out, the T-1001 was leaving. So we hurried to the truck. Cameron carried you to the back seat, reciting endlessly that you needed medical attention. She didn't let anyone touch, even to help. _Nobody_. She and Sarah had quite the stare down before Cameron said she wouldn't wait to get you to a hospital. Since we were worried, I climbed into the passenger seat while your mother drove. Cameron remained in the back with you, trying to prevent any more blood loss. Let me tell you, you looked like crap.

"Then, as we were driving down the highway, on our way here, well, you were delusional," Derek grumbled. John's heart skipped a beat, but it wasn't out of excitement.

"Derek," he muttered, dread coursing throughout him. "What did I do?"

"It wasn't what you did; you didn't have strength for that. It was more of what you said," Derek admitted hesitantly.

"What did I _say_? Derek?" Fear was mixing with the dread.

"Well, for some reason, you were absolutely convinced that Cameron was hurt," Derek began, obviously beating around the bush. "Halfway to the highway, you started talking, saying that Cameron was hurt. Shortly after you also started shouting about how we needed to save Cameron, that you would be fine, all we had to do was save Cameron, because…"

"Because _what_?!"

"Well, you said if we didn't save Cameron we would be killing you," Derek mumbled guiltily. "You said we had to help her first, because…ah, because…"

"WHAT?!"

"…because you _loved_ her."

John's blood froze colder than ice. There was no doubt that if he had been saying those words in a fever dream, then this story was shortly headed to murder and bloodshed. "What…what happened?"

"Your mother knew exactly what you had said, and she stomped down on the brakes, nearly throwing all of us out of our seats. She turned around and pointed her automatic at straight at Cameron, screaming words I've never used. I swear she would've shot had I not stopped her, along with our new friend. I have never been more scared of your mother, and it has never been so hard to restrain her. I think the truly only thing that stopped her is that Cameron covered you with herself so that you wouldn't be hit. It made her hesitate and see something in Cameron's eyes."

John let his head fall back. It was a very good thing, then, that his mother was at home. Sarah would be murdering Cameron. His eyes flicked over to her to make sure she was unharmed. She was. John also secretly checked himself to make sure she hadn't castrated him in his passed out state. Derek grinned ruefully when he saw the action.

"Don't worry, you're in one piece. Watch your step when you heal up, though," Derek warned. John sighed and turned to his uncle.

"You?" he asked hesitantly.

"I knew that you would fall in love with the m—her, ever since I came back," Derek grumbled sourly. "I hoped that I could break it up or stop it, but it seems it doesn't work that way. So I'll tolerate it. But that doesn't mean I like it." He pointed a finger at John warningly. "If I walk around the corner and you two are up to something, I will beat both of you." It was nice to know his uncle didn't change.

"Fine with me," John agreed. He was still panicky, more about his mother finding out.

"Now it's my turn to ask you a question," Derek said.

"What?"

"What the—" A long list of expletives streamed from his Resistance soldier uncle. This had been bothering him obviously. "—were you two doing going to see a physics professor?! Seriously! How on earth did a physics professor have anything to do with this? It's not like physics professors invent Skynet; those are computer professors! So why on earth did you go to see a _physics_ professor?!"

John remembered why he had gone, and he first felt sad; he still had no answer. But then he realized something. Derek was from the future, and Derek had said he knew that he and Cameron loved each other… "Derek," John said suddenly, urgency in his voice.

"What?" Derek asked, on his feet.

"Does Cameron…die? Or do I send her back?"

Derek stared at his nephew for a long time. Then he burst into laughter. John couldn't believe he was laughing about this. "You mean that's why you went to see a physics professor?!"

"Yes. Don't laugh," John threatened, as his uncle sobered up. "Please tell me I don't have to."

Derek sighed and sat back down. "You want to know what happens? I'll tell you. You had always been around a woman named Cameron when I first met you. It shocked me to learn she was a Terminator; she acted…human very well, slipping only occasionally. Then one day a soldier named Allison Young joined the Resistance. You and Cameron were highly upset about it, and assigned Allison her own guard. Cameron especially felt guilty when Allison was reported missing. About this time, Cameron stopped going out in public, confining herself somewhere. You refused to talk about it, looking upset each time. This is when I was captured. Then, when I came back and first saw Cameron, I thought it was a second Terminator who had infiltrated us; I hadn't seen another metal on our side. This Cameron walked more like a Terminator and acted more metal. You sent for me and explained it to me.

"You and Cameron caught the newly infiltrated Cameron and programmed her. Then, once she was our side, your Cameron confined herself while the newly programmed Cameron learned a little about what was there. Then you sent her back. It's all one bit time-loop mess. Cameron and you grow on and capture Cameron to send back. You even told her about this so she could tell you. Didn't she tell you?"

"No," John admitted, something funny in his stomach. "It must have been lost when her chip was damaged. So…I'm still with Cameron? She doesn't die?"

"No," Derek admitted, perhaps a little sad by the truth. Suddenly everything was funny to John. He smiled widely, nothing holding him down anymore. He was certain that if he wasn't under the blankets he would have floated. "You're happy about something."

"I don't lose her," John said, a little dazed by joy. Derek rolled his eyes and muttered something incomprehensible. John's eyes turned to Cameron. "Is she fine?" he asked, even though he knew nothing could hurt her.

"Perfectly," he grumbled. "She never let go of you, even coming in. She's been holding your hand the entire time you were out. She only stopped thirty minutes ago because it was making doctors worried when she never moved and never appeared to sleep. It took a lot of persuasion on my part."

That statement made John think about several things. He focused a little. "How long was I out?"

"About three days, nothing bad." That was nothing bad? Still, at least nothing had happened to him—or in the case of his mother's discovery, to Cameron.

"Who is our new friend?" John asked. Derek's face completely toughened.

"For one thing, he's the sole reason the T-1001 was driven off and why your mother hasn't touched Cameron. He's the guest Sarah's accommodating for. It won't take much, though."

"What did he do?"

"Well, first he tossed it around a little—"

"What?"

Derek looked at John's shocked face. "Perhaps I should tell you about him, as best as I can." John nodded. "He's part of a project you created, called Project Vader. In it, volunteers had something genetically done that increased how much or their muscle potential was used or some hard thing. All I know is that those that survived the treatment became strong enough to toss around metals and fast enough to race them. He's one of them."

"He's a super human?"

"I'll leave the details to him," Derek said, hands in the air. "I never knew much about it, but he's bound to. Careful when you talk to him, though; he might hurt you by accident. Anyway, he tossed the metal around, and then regurgitated a vial, which he threw at it. The T-1001 caught it in its hand, and the vial broke open. Acid leaked all over the metal's hand and began to disintegrate it. The metal ran off, trying to get rid of the acid. Our friend confirmed that the metal would now have only three fingers on its left hand."

John was taken away. Not only had he sent a superhuman back, but they had an acid which could melt liquid Terminators. Why hadn't he thought of that before? Anything that melted them would work.

"So why is he so protective of Cameron?" John had nearly said my Cameron, and he was certain that was an article that gave Derek permission to abuse him.

"In his words, 'you created the program, but Cameron was the program's mother.' Apparently Cameron was deeply involved in the whole program. And everyone I met that I think of referred to Cameron as their mother; each of them would fight to the death for her. You were joked to be the red-headed step-father."

John thought some more. He glanced at Cameron. "When is she supposed to wake up?"

"In half an hour. Do you mind if I turn a game on? Sitting here is killing me?" John shook his head, and Derek changed the TV to military war games. John only half-watched, waiting for Cameron to come back online. He couldn't wait to tell her.

*****

Coming home that afternoon was terrifying. John wasn't sure whose grip was tighter: Cameron's or his. He knew that Cameron had to survive, since they both caught her to send back, but Derek never mentioned what condition both of them were in. Derek walked past both and opened the door, not caring at all. He moved quickly out of the way, though.

Inside, John let go of Cameron to appeal to his mother. However, Sarah didn't say a word. She ran towards John embraced him in a tight hug. John, surprised but not unhappy, hugged his mother back. Cameron watched the reaction carefully. _Analyzing………Sarah does not mean physical harm………Threat level: none. Recommended course of action: act relieved; stay out of Sarah's actions._

Sarah did reserve a warning glance for both of them. Not all was quite forgiven. She went to make dinner. John, the crisis over, took Cameron's hand again. He went to find the person he was most interested in. Cameron stayed near him. John found him laying on the floor in the living room. He looked up at John and stood up.

John took in the brown-haired, blue-eyed young man. He was barely older than John, not more than three years. And he was built like a tank. He looked like a star athlete in a college football team. Except that he had a rough beard and his eyes were feral. Not to mention John still remembered the roar and laugh.

"Hey," John greeted. To his surprise, the young man offered him his hand.

"You tried to teach us courtesy," he explained. John shook his hand. There was power in his grip that John was certain took effort to restrain from breaking John's hand. "My name is Joseph. I don't know my last name." The super fighter acknowledged Cameron with a respectful nod. "I take it you want to know about Project Vader?"

"Sure," John said. Joseph leaned back against the wall. He looked ready to pounce. After a second he awkwardly gestured for them to sit. John did so, Cameron sitting next to him and resting her head on his shoulder. For some reason the sight relaxed Joseph a little. He didn't look like he would sit, though. He looked more like he was on a pound of coffee, controlled.

"I was born a couple years before Judgment Day," Joseph began. "My family was killed, and I was the only one left. I think I was…"he counted on his fingers "eight. I started traveling to find a way to survive. That's when the machines found me. I ran from them until I met the Resistance, for…nine years. I got good at tripping them. They never got me."

"You liked how I saved a group of soldiers. After a while, I learned to fight with guns and knives. A year later, you offered me to join Project Vader. I don't remember how many of us there were: it was a lot. When we lived, there were…" this took time for Joseph to count it out, using his fingers. "…fifteen. Or sixteen. About that many. We were strong, though, strong enough to lift ends of cars and fast enough to race machines. Not as strong, but as fast."

"But it wasn't all good. First, I don't regret it, but I don't like it. I'm not a super-human; I'm not really human. I feel more like an animal. It's hard to think normally; I act more…more…animal. You noticed and tried to 'humanize' us or something, to try to keep our humanness or some other word. It didn't work well. And our strength was hard. Doing things like opening doors and shaking hands is hard. We're not human."

John understood but he didn't want to. He had made super soldiers, like he had thought about after his adrenaline exposure, but he had taken her humanity at the same time. And he had failed to return it to them. _More things I didn't do right. _But Joseph wasn't done. "Then Skynet found out about us. It started coming after just us. There were sixteen, or fifteen. But Skynet killed them all. After they killed lots of machines, though. I'm the last; I'm proud of it. When you both sent me to help you, I think there was a second group getting ready. Maybe they're being tested now. But that's all."

John thought of a question to ask the feral Resistance super-human he had created. He would say super-human; he would find a way to atone for whatever he'd done and save this boy's humanity. Personally John didn't think he deserved what he had received. "What about Cam?"

"You created the project, she mothered it. Cameron was there for all of us. She helped fight becoming animals the best, and was the mother to all of us. It's funny right now; I think of you as mother, but you're not yet," Joseph said. Cameron returned his look coolly. She wasn't bothered by this at all. Or was she? John didn't know; she wasn't showing any emotion.

The silence hung in the air. Joseph retained his pose for a while, then suddenly moved faster than John had expected, walking past them. "I don't like staying in here. It's too small. I want to go run."

Derek came in from wherever he had been. "I'll go with you and make sure you don't do something stupid," Derek said. They both gave each other a hard look as they went out the door. Joseph's grip had left small fingertip dents in the knob.

Sarah, in the kitchen, spoke. "Well, what do you think of him?"

"He frightens me a little," John said back. "He's…unnerving. I can't believe I did that to him." Cameron massaged his shoulders, the bruises gone. John made a noise of contentment.

"I think we can help him. He opens up when you talk to him, and he tries his best to be courteous. It's almost amusing as Cameron sometimes."

"Will Derek be all right?" John had little doubt about that fight, after what he'd learned.

"Yes, he's promised Cameron he wouldn't hurt Derek," Sarah gritted her teeth when she said Cameron's name. "While you were asleep though, he regurgitated something else."

"What?" It seemed sick.

"A letter in a plastic bag. It's addressed to you," Sarah said, pointing to the table. John debated whether he should get up. Eventually he did, regretting it when Cameron's hands left his back. He walked over to the table and looked at the letter. It was addressed to him from him, in the future. It was ironic and funny in a way. Then he noticed there was a date posted on it, a week from now. And it had in bold letters: Don't open until this date, me.

_Me. Well, at least I still have some sense of humor. That means I'm not crazy yet at whatever time that is._ He put it back down. Sarah watched like a mother bear as John went back to Cameron. She knew what he wanted, and began to massage his shoulders again. Sarah went back to cooking, satisfied. Knowing his mother wasn't looking, John kissed Cameron.


	8. Epilogue

Epilogue

The Law is True

John was hesitant to talk about it with Derek as they sat on the porch. Joseph was sprawled across the floor inside, sleeping, and Sarah was talking to Cameron. Four days had passed, and John had slowly come to realize that among all of their troubles, the Law of Consistency hadn't been broken. And that meant that it was true, and only one outcome would come of it. Derek, Sarah, and Joseph all had to die.

However, when he told Derek about it, Derek replied with, "I know. I likely won't live to see Judgment Day. However, I don't count that as a loss."

"I feel terrible about it, though," John muttered. "It's absolute death. And I send you all willingly to your deaths."

"Hey, we had that figured out when we came. And to be honest, I doubt if Joseph cares if he dies," Derek snorted.

"What is your problem with him?"

"It's a…bad story."

"Tell me. Or I'll ask him instead."

Derek sighed and groaned. "I was sick from…celebrating a victory. I staggered towards the bathroom but started to fall. He reached out to catch me, and I ended up vomiting all over him. In response he threw me down the hall." John laughed and shook his head. Of course it would be something dumb like that. Then he returned to the somber conversation.

"I just feel like I'm cutting your life short."

"Hold it, John Connor," Derek said hard. "You aren't cutting my life short. I'm cutting my life short, and so is anyone who came. They chose to come; you only offered the choice to them. It's our choice, not yours. You told us the possibility, and we didn't care. You know why? Look around. That's why. So yeah, a couple of us might die early, but I'd rather die in this environment than in an apocalyptic war against the machines. To be honest, I'll probably live longer here than if I were to have stayed."

"I understand," John muttered, still hesitant. He didn't want to have them die, regardless. It just seemed cruel. Necessary, he admitted, but cruel. Wasn't there another way?

"And," Derek said, jerking John out of his thoughts, "If you start that every little thing I do will kill me, I swear you're command the Resistance looking like one giant bruise." John smiled and shook on it. Derek didn't change. They both turned and stared at the sunset. It did look nice, John thought. He might not see another. He had to appreciate what time he had when he could.

"My mother," John said after a time.

"Yeah," Derek agreed. "She'll eventually succumb to cancer if nothing else gets her. She would have died six years after your time jump, so she has six years now, unless the ability to heal cancer is known before then. And then, well, she isn't alive when you send Kyle back—"

"I know," John said quietly. "It's just hard." Derek nodded and they watched the sun some more. A car blazing bass drove by. Derek tried to lighten the mood.

"By the way, about Cameron," he said, half-grinning, half-irritated.

"What?" John asked, concerned for her.

"You should know that she's taken the custom of flipping me off," Derek grumbled. John laughed and tried to be serious about it.

"Well, do you flip her off first?" John asked. Derek opened his mouth and closed it. He grumbled and opened a beer bottle.

"Just watch her. I might do more than flip her off next time."

"Oh, I doubt Joseph will let you, so you better not mess with my Cameron," John laughed. He emphasized my Cameron, causing Derek to turn dangerously toward him as he got up and stepped away.

"John, you better not be thinking what I think you are," Derek warned. "Remember what I said…" John smiled wide. He felt like he had his strength back. He gave his uncle the finger. Derek burst from his spot and lunged for John. John turned and ran down the street, laughing.

Inside, the situation had changed; Sarah had gone to rest and clear her mind. Cameron and Joseph had watched the scene unfold from inside. Cameron had felt a bit of pride when her John flipped off Derek, her emotion simulator automating. She began putting her boots on.

"Where are you going?" Joseph asked.

"To save John. He has a 31.7% chance to outrun Derek," Cameron explained. _Analyzing……..it will take approximately 2.3 minutes to catch John and run with him. Calculating………integrating possible sighting by human………threat level: minimal. Recommended actions: Ensure the survival and protection of John Connor at all costs._

"He's in danger?" Joseph asked, confused by the exchange between John and Derek.

Cameron's processes came up with different answers before selecting one that explained best. "No," she answered. "I love him." She left the house and took after both of them. She passed Derek, who shouted something at her. Then she reached John and scooped him up, catching him by surprise. They ran back past Derek, who shouted more.

"That was unexpected," John said.

"You would have passed out; your strength is not at 100% capacity," Cameron explained. John smiled and put his fingers to her lips again. Her emotion simulator flooded her with warmth. Then her John grinned.

"Cameron, I know we're 'escaping' Derek, but how about a date?" John asked. _Analyzing and processing request………threat level to John at multiple restaurants………restaurant with least threat level target………acquiring map; scanning………route found. Recommended actions: agree. Put John down after time to infiltrate._

"Yes," she agreed. John smiled more. She continued to run. Derek gave up.

*****

A/N: The letter? It contains their worst nightmare come to pass. John's arch-enemy is going to be paying them a visit.


End file.
